


Someone Like You

by yeetbinch



Category: RDR - Fandom, Red Dead Redemption, Red Dead Redemption (Video Games), Red Dead Redemption 2, rdr2 - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Ending, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Happy Ending, Humor, M/M, Multi, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 04:33:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29836068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeetbinch/pseuds/yeetbinch
Relationships: Arthur Morgan & Dutch van der Linde, Arthur Morgan/Dutch van der Linde, Molly O'Shea/Dutch van der Linde
Kudos: 5





	Someone Like You

It was a day ordinary like any other to Arthur, but little did he know things would soon change. It all started when Dutch had walked out of his tent with a smirk on his face and his pants unbuttoned.  
“Wooooo-wee! Damn that was one good ride, son. Maybe we can continue later… if you get my drift.” Dutch clapped his hand on his back.  
“I- Dutch? What in the world are you talking about?” Arthur stood there confused as the wheels in his head turned vigorously, trying to figure out what the hell Dutch was implying.  
“Arthur, don’t play stupid with me boy,” Dutch growled, feeling hurt by Arthur’s rejection of the events that had occurred in his tent. “It literally just happened, or do I need to jog your memory? I saw you, drawing nude pictures of me in your journal along with The Count, I dragged you and The Count off into my tent, dressed you up in your cat maid suit with crotchless panties and went to town! There! Did that help you remember? Or are you embarrassed now?” Dutch sneered, wiping the sweat off his brow.  
“Uh, Dutch, Arthur was out here, chopping wood this entire time..” Tilly nervously mentioned.  
“You did those things with a horse? Dutch van der Linde.. I- What? Christ Alive, I need to smoke a fat blunt to get rid of these images in my mind.” Hosea rubbed his eyes and walked out of camp, lighting up his herbal cigar.  
“We all thought that was you and Molly,” Bill spoke up awkwardly, “‘Cause of all the.. err… noises.”  
“ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT!” Dutch grasped at his greasy strands, pulling at them as the frustration of the situation continued to grow. “If that wasn’t Arthur, who on this goddamned-wretched earth did I pound into oblivion?”  
The camp was eerily silent, no one knowing what to say. A rustle in the bushes captured everyone's attention, gun reloaded, cocked and pointed in the direction of the sound. A figure dressed in hot pink, assless chaps walked out, arms raised and cat ears on.  
“My, my. Settle down, boys.” The southern drawl was eerily similar to Arthur’s own. “Dutch and I were… having some fun with The Count, no big deal. It’s not animal abuse if he liked it.” The stranger shared a lecherous grin while sensually stroking The Count’s white, gleaming fur.  
Of course, everyone disagreed with that statement and frankly felt a bit concerned for the animal, but honestly, it was the least of their problems right now.  
“Who the hell are you? Why d’ya look like me, too? Is this some sort of cosplay?”  
The strangers eyes twinkled with mirth, “Oh, Arthur, you fool. I’m your twin brother, of course! Now, now, don’t give me that look. Your mother couldn’t afford to keep two children with your father’s…. Problem with alcohol, shall I say. My name is Arthur Whorgan, but to spare us from confusion you can call me Arty.”  
Arthur stared silently in growing shock and horror. “What the fuck?”  
“Boss, I respect you and your decisions but I personally think we need to keep this cowpoke out of camp, he’s clearly derange-”  
Dutch interrupted Micah’s proposition with a wide smile. “Nonsense. This is perfect, absolute perfection. I can re-enact my fantasies with an Arthur look alike. Of course, the real Arthur would be ideal,” he snuck a glance to Arthur before continuing, “-But of course, that is unlikely to happen.”  
Arthur made a sour face. “I- er- don’t you think this is a bit unethical and wrong? Also, you have fantasies about me? You always said I was like a son to you, or something more…”  
“What do you think the ‘more’ meant, Arthur. Many fathers lust after their sons, it’s not unnatural.”  
Arthur breathed out a harsh breath, “I think I’m gonna go hunting for a bit to clear my head, so I’ll catch y’all later.”  
Arthur was gone for a week and in that week, things had gone to shit in camp. Dutch had not left his tent in five days, too preoccupied with the activities he was doing with Mr. Whorgan. The rest of camp could hear them going at it, all day and all night; which of course meant no sleep for them. So, when Arthur finally arrived home it was a relief to all, until Micah pulled him aside.  
“Look, cowpoke, I know we hate each other and you’d rather be caught dead than do anything with me, but we need to solve this.. Issue with Mr. Whorgan and Dutch. He needs to be.. Taken care of, if you get my gist.”  
“Micah, I think you are a dirty, shiteating, disgusting, greasy-ass bastard. I wait for the day you fall in battle, as I see the life draining from your wide open, shocked eyes. I yearn for the day I can violate and spit on your mangled corpse, so I’d never thought I would actually agree on you with this, but here we are.”  
“..Holy shit, Morgan.”  
“Anyways, how are we gonna get this gay bastard if Dutch is with him all the time? I’m not sure he would leave no matter what the circumstances, honestly.”  
“Well, here’s the plan so far, Morgan. We have John disguised as a Pinkerton, hiding out in a bush to give out a few gunshots. We’ll have the girls make a racket, screaming, hollering and such. The men will start shooting all around us, careful to not hit, John. Of course, would it really be a big deal if they did?” Micah sniggered.  
“Shut it, you slimy rat bastard.” John’s hoarse voice cut in.  
“Anyways, after the initial distraction, Dutch and presumably Mr. Whorgan will come out of the tent. If Whorgan comes out, then John will snipe him. If he stays in the tent, well, you’ll have to be the one to sneak in there and do the deed.”  
“This is incredibly dangerous and all for Dutch’s sex life? I mean, what if John gets shot?”  
“Arthur, you haven’t been here for a week.” John countered, “I’ll take the risk of getting shot if I never have to hear the noises that come out of that tent again. Dutch keeps pretending that it’s you in that tent. He says shit like “come to daddy, you big boy,” and at one point I saw him step out of his tent in latex thigh-high boots with a whipping crop in his hand.”  
“Oh my lord..” Arthur whimpered, shuddering at the thought of the images in his head.  
“Yeah, exactly. That’s why in ten minutes, the plan will commence and this will all be solved.”  
Ten minutes later and the plan was set, with everyone ready to go. John let out the firing shot and the girls started the performance. Soon, gunshots whizzed around everywhere and around everyone, the girls’ screaming filling the air. Dutch ran out of his tent, guns waving around wildly, as Micah informed him of the “situation”.  
After five minutes, it was clear that Dutch’s new found “partner” was not coming out, so with a nod to Micah, Arthur went to pay him a visit personally. He made sure Dutch was preoccupied before he slipped into his tent, the stench of cigarette smoke and sex filling the air. He ignored the BDSM set up and spotted Whorgan immediately, smoking one of Dutch’s cigars, laying on the bed.  
“Well, if you’d look who it is! My dear brother, what can I do for you?”  
Arthur didn’t humor him with a response, he simply cocked the gun and raised it to the man’s head.  
“Whoa, whoa!” He raised his hands high in the air, “Maybe we got off on a wrong foot but-”  
“Look, this really ain’t your fault, but it has to be done, ok? Dutch is- Well, he’s gettin’ a bit too comfortable with you, now the rest of us are paying the price. Just- er- close your eyes and it will be over soon! Like rippin’ a bandaid off or some shit.”  
“Now surely this doesn’t have to be done?”  
“Sorry bud.”  
Arthur pulled the trigger and left the tent. He made eye contact with John, who was hiding in the bushes. He did a subtle nod and the bullets gradually faded off into silence.  
“Goddamned Pinkertons!” Dutch growled, “Now we have to pack up AGAIN, and I just finished the sex tent, too…” He seemingly mentioned the last part to himself.  
Everyone held their breath with anxiety as Dutch walked into the tent, unaware of what would greet him.  
“GODDAMN IT! Goddamn it all..” Dutch dropped to his knees, head in his hands.  
“Dutch, I’m so sorry..” Arthur began.  
“I can’t believe this, now my only means of being with Arthur is GONE. I’ll never have a man closer to your likely-ness than him.”  
“You don’t even care about him? You only care about your fantasies with me?” Arthur frowned.  
“Exactly!”  
“Dutch, this is unhealthy, I think of you as a father, for Pete’s sake. This- this fantasy you have is never going to happen!”  
“I don’t think you understand, Arthur. I can be something better than a father, I can be your daddy.”  
“Dutch, you fuck horses! I can’t be with a man like that!”  
“Oh you WOUND me, Arthur, you know where to get a man where it hurts. In my case, you have me by the balls.”  
Arthur didn’t bother dignifying Dutch with a response and instead stalked off to clear his head.  
A week later, Arthur returned with a sex doll with Arthur’s photo taped on the face. He left it outside Dutch’s tent. He heard Dutch thanking the Gods before disappearing inside his tent. All had been forgiven, the order had been restored.


End file.
